


bitter sugar

by euphemea



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cake, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Glenn Fraldarius, Support Spoilers, set after their A support, spoilers for Lysithea's A support with Byleth, you ever just want to make felix cry?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-20 21:09:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21288215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphemea/pseuds/euphemea
Summary: Her gaze meets his; her fierce, piercing stare transfixes him to the spot as though using her dark magic to hold him in place, rendering him not quite able to reach for his normal tactic of looking away to talk at others’ shoulders. “The other price of my Crests is that I don’t have many years left to live. Even if I make it through this war, I won’t have much peace left in me.”Felix and Lysithea have a heartfelt conversation over cake.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Lysithea von Ordelia
Comments: 10
Kudos: 95





	bitter sugar

**Author's Note:**

> “What if Felix only hates sweets because Glenn loved them?”

“Felix!”

He grits his teeth at the animated call and heavy clattering of the training ground doors slamming shut. Lysithea really does have the tendency to find him at the most inopportune moments. Like now, in the middle of his training; she’s ruined the repetition of the forms he was practicing. 

But he can’t really resent her, as much as he almost wishes he could. Her incredible work ethic and magical prowess are aweing, to say the least, and she had very quickly proved she was deserving of his respect after he joined her class. Much as he’ll never admit it, it’s always quite entertaining to watch her small form threatening to smite Claude and Sylvain from their mounts when they tease her. Then there’s her endless adoration of sweets, charming in its own right, a frivolity that he’s not completely ungrateful to have when she shares with him. For the first time in many years, he had been able to sit and eat a cake with someone without wanting to overturn the table and do away with all the ridiculous, wasteful nonsense. 

“Hello, Lysithea.” 

Felix turns toward her, lowering his sword from where it had been pointed toward the training dummy, expression softening from its initial irritated scowl when he spots the bright expression painting her face. Even in the filtered lighting of the Horsebow Moon sun in the training hall, the rays from above play gently against her pale pink eyes, the dazzling elation in them made all the more apparent by the way they rest against her face. Standing as she is in the light reflecting off them, her eyes almost remind him of the color of the cherry blossoms in the northern part of Adrestia his father had once taken him and Glenn to see, all those many years ago.

“Please come! Mercedes and I have been perfecting this wonderful new cake recipe and I really think you’d like it. It’s light and not too sweet, but filled with spices and absolutely delicious with a bit of lemon glaze.” She races the last few steps towards him, grabbing his arm and tugging insistently, hair flouncing lightly as she eagerly starts hauling him toward the exit. Felix stumbles, surprised by the sudden contact, but doesn’t move to shove her away. “This one came out of the oven not too long ago, but it’s cooled and now’s the _ perfect _ time to try it!”

“Wait — hold on! Lysithea, let me put away the training sword and we can go.” She shoots him a pleased grin, and he huffs mildly. “I enjoyed your last cakes, didn’t I? I’ve been training for a few hours, I suppose it’s all right to take a break.” 

She releases her grip so he can stand the training sword back in the rack with the others, carelessly observing him as he quickly returns all the training and polishing equipment to their designated locations, humming pleasantly all the while. 

He gives the hall a quick once-over. Satisfied with its state, he nods. Sylvain can’t bemoan any dirtiness or disordered mess this time as an excuse to get out of practicing his lancework. “Alright, let’s go.” 

Lysithea briskly leads the way toward the kitchens, her footsteps sprightly and small body almost thrumming with anticipation. She must be very confident in this cake then. Undoubtedly, Mercedes’s help had been key — though Felix has doubts since every sweet that Mercedes has forced him to try (since hearing the Lysithea had persuaded him to eat them at all) has been much too sweet for his tastes. 

While Felix has certainly appreciated each of the several cakes she had claimed to have tested for him, none of them had elicited quite this response from her. If it’s as good as she expects it to be, maybe it’ll even compare to — 

No. That’s the past and not worth dwelling on. He shakes the thought away.

As ever, Lysithea’s boundless enthusiasm for cake always brings a small smile to his face, though he quickly rights his lips back into their normal dour expression when she tosses a glance over her shoulder to make sure he’s following her properly. It wouldn’t do to have it get out that Felix is doing silly things like eating sweets and having tea and _ enjoying _ them. It’s already bad enough to have certain red-headed idiots still teasing him about having a soft spot for small girls after that time Sylvain found him awkwardly holding Bernadetta’s satchel.

Lysithea waves him over to a seat as she darts off to fetch slices of the cooling cake. This part is almost routine by now, the high-tempo bustle of Lysithea dashing through the kitchen to grab plates and tea, the fussy way she lays out the sweets with ornate decorative drizzles and placing the fork _just_ so, the bright, hopeful apprehension etched into every feature as she observes, hawk-like, every minute movement, daring him to dislike the sweet and find fault in her baking. 

It’s (dare he say it) almost cute how she puffs up like an offended squirrel, chattering angrily when his reactions fail to meet her expectations. 

Today’s cake is a pretty white creation, topped with a toasted meringue and the lemon glaze Lysithea had mentioned. She sits, her own carefully-presented slice placed in front of her as she watches Felix pick up his fork and gently carve out a small bite. It’s pleasantly spiced, strong on cinnamon and cardamom, with notes that suggest some anise had gone into it as well. He’s surprised that Lysithea likes it, given her strong preference for sugar and overbearing sweetness over just about everything else.

He makes an appreciative hum as he takes a second, larger bite. It’s very good, and while it hasn’t changed his mind that most sweet things are terrible, he could see himself eating this regularly. Lysithea’s eyes twinkle as she voraciously digs into her own slice. 

It’s very much a cake created with Felix’s love of spice in mind. It’s almost bitterly nostalgic, enveloping him of the memories of childhood cakes that Fraldarius servants had lovingly and painstakingly prepared for him on Glenn’s orders, back when he still might have enjoyed such a thing. 

Lysithea finishes first, propping her chin on her arm as she watches Felix slowly work on his. She’s studying him again, gaze piercing and analytical. 

“Don’t bother denying it, I can tell you liked this cake.” 

Felix throws her a flat look over his fork. “I wasn’t going to pretend I didn’t. It’s very nicely spiced.” He takes another bite, savoring how the sharp flavors of the spices cut through the sweetness, the texture fluffy and easily crumbling against the roof of his mouth. “I’m actually surprised you like this. Isn’t it too sharp for your sugar-loving palate? It’s good for me that the sweetness is only barely there, but I can’t imagine you actually like that given how much you go on and on about the joys of disgustingly sweet teas and cakes.” 

Lysithea narrows her eyes, clearly debating whether she wants to pursue defending sweet cakes against Felix’s slander. She relents after a terse moment before looking down at her plate, expression tinged with sadness. 

“Actually, it’s a little too spicy for me, but I wanted to share it with you anyway. I don’t know how much longer I have to do so, as it is. I’m really glad I’ve been able to help you find your sweet tooth, and I wanted to really find a cake you could remember me by when I’m gone.”

Felix swallows harshly. “What do you mean ‘when you’re gone’? We’re all going to make it through this war, so don’t talk like you’re going to die.” 

Lysithea blinks slowly at him. “I… never told you, did I? I thought you might have figured it out by now… so many others have.” She sighs. “I have two Crests.”

She fiddles with her fork, twirling it indifferently. “Do you know how I talk about working hard for my parents’ sake?”

Felix nods. She mentions it repeatedly during their tea and cake sessions when the mood strikes, fills their lingering silences with praise for her parents, lectures him occasionally about magic that Felix in complex technical terms that go way over his head. It’s not like he can give up his sword to learn an entirely new discipline while in the middle of a war, and he’s more than satisfied with the magic he had been forced to learn by the Professor on penalty of being banned from the training grounds.

Lysithea’s fingers drum against the table as she continues, concentrating on her out-of-reach memories and wistful dreaming. “I don’t have long left to make sure they’re happy and comfortable. I was — I was taken as a child, and unknown mages performed dark blood experiments on me and my siblings. I don’t have any siblings anymore.” She winds her fingers through a lock of her pale hair, almost luminescent in the dark lighting of the empty dining hall, twiddling it listlessly. “And… my hair wasn’t always this color. It lost all color when they succeeded.” 

Her gaze meets his; her fierce, piercing stare transfixes him to the spot as though using her dark magic to hold him in place, rendering him not quite able to reach for his normal tactic of looking away to talk at others’ shoulders. “The other price of my Crests is that I don’t have many years left to live. Even if I make it through this war, I won’t have much peace left in me.”

Felix is frozen, speechless, curling dread filling him as he struggles to process the horrors of Lysithea’s past that have been dumped so baldly into his lap. Should he… comfort her? Offer words of condolence? Praise her for her tenacity? 

His shocked brain slowly churns back into motion, one cog at a time, and he spits out the first words that fight their way onto his heavy tongue, darkened with fear and tinged with preemptive regret. “So… You’re going to leave me too.” 

Lysithea’s expression breaks, bewildered and hurt, hands and breath shuddering slightly despite the balmy early spring weather, tears threatening to fall, and — 

That isn’t right. That — that wasn’t what Felix _wanted to say_. 

Lysithea lets out a sharp sniffle and stands abruptly. Felix catches her sleeve before she can storm off, grip taut and trembling. “Wait. Please. That isn’t — that’s not I meant.”

Lysithea’s glower is scalding, fueled by pain that Felix _knows_ could have been avoided if he could be just a little more tactful, but words have never been his forte. “That sounded pretty honest to me.”

Felix grimaces. The worst part is that she’s not exactly wrong. His thoughts batter around his skull, all vying for dominance as he struggles to beat them into submission, overwhelmed with emotion and dark memories he hasn’t faced. 

Felix struggles through his words slowly, attempting to organize them into coherent sentences before Lysithea can truly walk away from him. He knows _now_ that he’ll lose her one day, and tragically soon, but… today doesn’t have to be that day.

“Look. I’ve… lost a lot of people in my life. From what you’ve just said, you have too. I’m not very good at talking about ...feel — feelings and whatever. But I’m not ready to lose you too. I didn’t mean to speak as harshly as I did. I know it’s out of your control, that you’re not trying or waiting to die.”

He slumps, breaking his normally perfect posture, grip slackening slightly. 

“I’m just… afraid.”

Lysithea isn’t looking at him, but he’s glad for it. His eyes are suspiciously wet, and he’s not quite ready to own up to that. Felix hasn’t cried in front of anyone in a long time.

He lets go of her sleeve and stares into the almost-empty plate in front of him. It doesn’t answer his subconscious, wordless pleas for… well, Felix isn’t sure what exactly for. He needs answers to many things, and it stares back at him, resolutely plain and inanimate. Lysithea gently strokes over the abused fabric, absentmindedly checking for damage before quietly sighing and returning to her vacated seat. 

“You know, Felix... I’m quite scared of dying. I’m not ready to leave anytime soon, and there are so many different sweets and cakes I haven’t tried yet... When this is all over, I hope I have some time to share my cakes with the world.” Her smile is small, tremulous, but it reaches her eyes and the tension in Felix’s shoulders leaks away. She’s not angry anymore. “If I can convert a cake-hater like you, there’s nothing my sweets can’t do.”

Felix winces. While he’s being honest, he might as well tell her.

“I have a confession about cake to make too. I… may have implied in the past that I hate sweet things. That’s not exactly correct.” His right hand has a mind of its own as he talks, nonsensically stabbing into the small remnants of Lysithea’s cake, crushing it into the plate. 

“While I have always preferred spicy dishes, I never really hated sweets until Glenn died. My brother, he — he used to love cakes, would eat them all the time and tease me about my spicy treats. But…” 

A single tear tracks down his cheek after a fluttering blink spills over; Felix is overcome with emotion as he trudges through memories that have been locked away for nine years, some longer. 

“Glenn… he always went out of his way to find treats that I would like in every bakery we ever visited, and he would feed me bites of his sweets, laughing when I complained that they were too much. Even though I complained, he used to always let me have half of his treats because he knew that I liked them anyway.”

Felix heaves out a stilted breath, gloved hand brusquely wiping away the tears that obscure his vision. Lysithea deftly hands him her napkin, somehow spotless; she had polished off her cake so completely that no crumbs remained to be wiped away. Tears soak the coarse material as Felix presses it to his face, grateful for the chance to hide his embarrassed face away from Lysithea’s watching eyes.

“And then, he died in the Tragedy of Duscur. I was never able to look at sweets again without disgust. They… they only reminded me of my brother, and of a lot of other memories of happier times that I thought I didn’t need anymore. 

“Until you changed my mind.” Felix raises his face to meet Lysithea’s, watery smile, red-tinged cheeks, and all. “So, I thank you.”

Lysithea takes Felix’s hand in hers, gently extracting the soiled napkin and placing it aside. Her normally sharp, pink gaze, softened, kind, and shining brilliantly through her own tears, meets Felix’s as she offers his hand a tender squeeze. 

“I’m not dying just yet. We’ll keep up the work on your sweet tooth, and you’ll be able to eat real sweets again. I promise I won’t die before that.” 

Felix lets out a shuddering breath.

Maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.


End file.
